


the story of something

by Clarisse (transnymphtaire)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Dubious Blood Drinking Consent, Hufflepuff Harry, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sanguini Raises Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:26:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10069052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transnymphtaire/pseuds/Clarisse
Summary: 30 prompts making up a story, starting with first meetings and ending with different ways they say I love you.





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't be bothered with coming up a summary. The prompts are from here; otp-imagines-cult.tumblr.com/post/133309701572/30daychallenge1
> 
> Yes, I know I have lots of fics waiting for updates. I'll get to them sooner or later; none are abandoned.

There’s many things that Sanguini has come home to find during his extended life, and many things he has wanted to forget. Coming home to see a man he never wanted to see again was of course nothing new, but the child that Pyrites held was unexpected.

“There’s no way that’s mine,” is the first thing to come out of Sanguini’s mouth. His mind is going in circles, affected by the wine he has ingested in act of celebration. It takes a moment for him to connect the pieces - Pyrites’ is Voldemort’s servant, he’s drunk because he celebrated Voldemort’s supposed death, the child has a bright red scar like lightning over their face.

“No,” is the next thing to leave his lips. “You didn’t.”

“Remember when we first met?” Pyrites asked, and how could he not?

_The man on his doorstep was soaked not by rain, but blood. Sanguini’s nostrils flared at the temptation, and he had to dig his nails into his palms to ground himself. There’s no visible wound, and he can only assume that the blood doesn’t belong to the stranger. What would be pristinely white gloves looks more decorated than destroyed, fortifying his suspicions._

_“I doubt that I’m who you're looking for,” Sanguini said, eyes stubbornly focused on the man’s artfully tousled red hair instead of his blood-drenched clothes._

_“Are you not Sanguini?”_

_“Why would you be looking for me?” He made the mistake of meeting the stranger’s eyes, flecks of blood highlighting them in a parody of freckles._

_“You’re a vampire. You should be fighting for your rights.”_

_“I do not respond well to propaganda.” His hands finally relaxed, leaving crescents of red in the skin of his palms._

_“Do you respond better to an offer?”_

_“There’s nothing you can offer me. Coming in blood was a low trick.”_

_“I’ll try again,” the stranger promised. “And if you change your mind, ask around for Pyrites.”_

“I don’t see how it’s relevant,” Sanguini responded. “That was decenniums ago.”

“This time there’s something you can offer me,” Pyrites explained, as if their past had never crossed ways after that first meeting.

“What do you expect me to do? Kill the child? Change it? Raise it?”

“Do whatever you want, as long as it doesn’t end up in Dumbledore’s hands. I can’t resurrect the Dark Lord with the knowledge that a weapon is being raised.”

“I’m not killing a child,” Sanguini said as he carefully took the small human from Pyrites’ arms. “I’m not changing it either; the life of a vampire is not for a child.”

“Then raise it. I don’t trust anyone else to keep it from Dumbledore.”

“You’ll owe me.” Sanguini demanded.

“Whatever you want, _Amadeo_.”

Pyrites apparated away before Sanguini fully processed hearing his mortal name for the first time in centuries, if not in over a millennia, from someone that should not have any knowledge of it.

“At least your first meeting with Voldemort wasn’t any better,” he mumbled as he looked down on the child in his arms. “Let’s get you inside, and let’s give you a new name.”

Sanguini quietly cursed Pyrites in his mind, as he said a prayer for the future under his breath. He’d need God’s blessing for the years to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV will change in each chapter, there's no main focus on one ship.


	2. Realisation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry will be referred to as Beau for a while. Sanguini was going to give him a new name after all.

Beau Halbert Acerbi had grown to be a very intelligent child at the age of five, with lots of big important thoughts and feelings. He loved his strange papa, who worried a lot about him and was almost always drinking something red, and he thought that his papa’s friend Pyri was very amusing when talking to him. Beau doubted that Pyri ever was a child, because he was too strange for Beau’s games. Papa on the other hand was great at indulging in Beau’s imagination.

There was one thing that made his papa worry, but that Pyri was very curious about, and that was The Voice in Beau’s head.

 _Play with the knives_ , The Voice would say. _Put your toys on fire_.

The Voice belonged to a man, Beau had determined, but it rarely interacted directly with him. The Voice urged him to do things, and Beau sometimes did do them, but his papa usually got worried when he did. The Voice mostly wanted him to do things that were considered dangerous and scary. Pyri encouraged him to do the things, but only when his papa wasn’t around. Not that Beau was alone with Pyri very often; his papa didn’t like it when Pyri was in their home. Beau found it quite odd - he had seen papa and Pyri both hug and kiss multiple times, and those were things you’re only supposed to do with people you like. The Voice had even voiced confusion at their interactions, though Beaus suspected it was because The Voice didn’t like anyone.

He doesn’t speak to the Voice a lot, partly because The Voice doesn’t answer him, and partly because his papa doesn’t approve of it. The Voice had a lot to say to him on the other hand; mainly awful, mean things. Beau weren’t sure what The Voice had against him, but since The Voice also taught him things, he thought it might be okay. The Voice had taught him how to make things fly, though The Voice also encouraged him to levitate heavy things above his head.

There’s one thing Beau was very interested in learning, that The Voice didn’t encourage, and that was swimming. His papa was more than happy to teach him though, and Beau excelled at it.

Until Pyri distracted his papa just as a big wave was coming towards him. Beau were too far away from the shore to get back there in time, and the wave forced him under the surface. When he found himself above again, there was no longer any ground under his feet.

 _Swim_ , The Voice suddenly urged, with an intensity unlike ever before. Beau tried, but his body is very small and the ocean is very big.

_Swim, you imbecile!_

Nothing The Voice could say helped him get closer to the shore, and Beau felt ready to accept his fate. He would scream, but water came down each time he opened his mouth to breathe.

 _You can’t die_ , The Voice was forceful as it echoed through his head. Beau wanted to smile, because it meant that The Voice did care about him, but trying to swim had eaten at his energy. Then there was a feeling like when his papa apparate with him, and the next thing he know, Beau was lying on the warm sand instead of sinking in the cold water.

 _Thank you_ , Beau thought, as he smiled sheepishly up at his worried papa.

 _It won’t happen again_ , The Voice promised, though it didn’t sound very sure. Beau smiled bigger.

It was nice to know that The Voice liked him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My headcanon is that Sanguini's birth name is Amadeo Sergio Acerbi, and his creator re-named him as he was turned. Also that he's french-italian, so Beau Halbert are french, and Acerbi is italian.
> 
> If you're more interested in Pyrites/Sanguini, you can either read my 100 word drabbles about them, or Believer, which is a serious fic with focus on Sanguini, especially his past and religious beliefs.


	3. The Reveal

After his near death experience, Beau had a lot more big important thoughts than before. Many of those thoughts revolved around his beloved papa, and around Pyri. Watching the two interact always made him feel like something was _missing_.

_“Sanguini,” Pyrites greeted, wrinkles marking the skin between his eyebrows. Sanguini looked up from the pans and pots simmering on the stove, a look of confusion in his eyes._

_“I didn’t expect you yet for another hour. The food isn’t ready yet.”_

_“Why do you insist on cooking?” Pyrites asked. “You should not do a house elf’s chores.”_

_“It’s part of my culture, of my childhood,” Sanguini explained it away. Beau frowned from his seat next to his papa; just earlier Sanguini had been saying how much he loved cooking._

_“You should still get a house elf,” Pyrites said, in a manner that left no room to protest._

It was odd to him, how his papa and Pyri could seem so intimate, yet avoid the word love as if it was something hurtful. They ate dinner together regularly, or had at least since after Beau turned three. Yet they spoke of hate more often than not.

_Beau shouldn’t be awake, but The Voice had kept him from succumbing to dreams by spinning tales of the wondrous things to be found in the dark - none that he felt inclined to encounter any time soon. As such, Beau had left the security of his room to find his papa and ask for a sleeping potion. Thankfully he did not have to look for long - the sound of voices were near._

_“You’re not letting Rookwood experiment on my son!”_

_“He’s not your son, Amadeo, and he might be an important part in resurrecting the Dark Lord.”_

_Beau barely noticed that The Voice got quiet, too curious about why Pyri called his papa for Amadeo, and why they were talking about him._

_“I don’t care, Philemon.”_

Philemon Nicodemus Pyrites _, The Voice suddenly supplied._ Philemon mean affectionate, Nicodemus mean victory of the people. Both names are from the Bible, though they come from Greek.

_Although interesting, Beau didn’t care for the information, except for how strange it was that Pyri had a name that meant affectionate. He also wondered what Amadeo meant, but The Voice offered no explanation. Unsure if he should make his presence known or go back to his room, he ended up pressed against the wall, glancing curiously at the scene around the corner._

_His papa and Pyri were standing in the middle of the corridor, much closer to each other than Beau had expected from their raised voices._

_“You wouldn’t have him at all if it weren’t for me,” Pyrites answered, and started to turn away._

_Beau watched with big eyes as his papa gripped Pyri’s arm and suddenly bent down to drink from Pyri’s neck. He ran back to his room to the sound of a surprised moan._

Yes, their relationship was rather odd, which is why Beau decided to confront his papa about it.

“Papa?” he asked, and climbed up next to Sanguini on the library sofa.

“Hm? What do you want, passerotto mio?”

 _Italian for my little sparrow_ , The Voice translated. Beau smiled; The Voice had started to teach him more good things since he almost drowned, and that included translating the various italian and french terms that his papa liked to use.

“Why is Pyri here so often if you don’t like him?”

“I like him, but our relationship is very complicated,” Sanguini explained as he started to play with Beau’s hair.

“In what way do you like him?” Beau tried his best to look innocent as he voiced the question. His papa’s hand faltered only for a moment before it continued playing with his curls.

“Pyrites is very dear to me,” Sanguini said at last. “He has a special place in my heart, if only because he brought me you.”

Beau cuddled closer to his papa, happy with the explanation for now. He felt sure that his papa and Pyri would figure it out, if they only got time.

 _You’re very dear to me_ , he informed The Voice. _But I love papa the most._

 _You’re tolerable_ , The Voice answered. Beau smiled happily; it was good to feel loved. He hoped that his papa also felt loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pyrites may have Greek names, but any Greek ancestors he have are very far back. He has Welsh and Scottish parents, and have never stepped outside the UK. His parents thought it would be interesting to take names from the bible, as each Pureblood family need some sort of naming quirk, and the Blacks were already known for constellations.
> 
> Neither of his parents have biblical names, and Pyrites is very uninterested in making it a tradition. Beau is the closest to having a child that he's getting.


	4. First Date

Time loses significance when you’ve lived for as long as Sanguini has. He is vaguely aware of Beau aging, until suddenly he holds a Hogwarts letter in his hand with _Harry James Potter_ written on it in green ink. He wants to rip it to pieces, because he don’t need a remember that his son Beau is destined to conquer a Dark Lord that he doesn’t follow, but he doesn’t. It would be unfair of him to rob Beau of the opportunity he never got; a proper magical education. Being born to Muggles before Beauxbatons were founded, Sanguini thought his magic a gift from God that he could not properly control.

Then Felix found him… but he refused to drown himself in those thoughts and lose his sanity. It was not a trap he could afford to ever get stuck in again.

“Papa,” The sound of Beau’s voice brought him back to the present. Sanguini forced a smile as he turned to look at his son. So tall already… but thin. Beau seemed to only be made up by gangly limbs and curls. His dark skin was pale; Sanguini had never realised how much time they spent inside. Of course, he couldn’t bring Beau outside as much as he’d like to. As Pyrites loved to remind him, Beau was known by all of wizardkind under a different name. The white lightning scar that stretched over Beau’s face was a constant reminder of that.

“There’s a letter for you,” Sanguini grimaced slightly at how stilted his voice sounded. There was no way he could get around this. “Beau… mon petit chou… There’s something I need to tell you.”

{ _My little cabbage_ , The Voice laughed. _It’s my favourite of his endearments for you_.}

“Is it about the letter?” Beau asked. Sanguini could only nod, and grip the letter tighter.

“I’ve never told you the details about how I got you. I’m aware that you have the right to know, and that I should have told you years ago… but I’ve been afraid of what you’d think of me,” Sanguini admitted. It was a big thing to hide for ten years; he didn’t want Beau to suddenly hate him. What else should he have done when Pyrites showed up on his doorstep?

“Almost ten years ago, I came home to see Pyrites standing outside my home, a child in his arms. He told me that I could offer to take the child from him, and that he didn’t care what I did to it, as long as it was kept from Dumbledore. The reason for that is that Albus Dumbledore - the headmaster for Hogwarts - is very respected by the light society. Pyrites is a member of the dark society, as am I, although I’m by my status as a vampire instead of choice. Pyrites have chosen to follow a Dark Lord who goes by the name by Voldemort. We met because he wanted me to follow Voldemort as well, but I refused,” Sanguini paused in his explanation to take in Beau’s reaction. Without the mortal need to breathe, he could talk for long periods of time without a break, which wasn’t always the best for the listener. Beau seemed to follow so far.

 _{Voldemort_ , The Voice sighed almost longingly. _I’ve almost forgotten who I was_.

Beau had to bite his lip to not react to the sudden revelation as he was listening to his papa.}

“On the night of Halloween in 1981, Voldemort was not defeated, but vanquished. Voldemort entered a home that had been hidden under the Fidelius, and murdered two members of the Order of the Phoenix that had openly fought against and resisted him. Their names were James and Lily, and they had a son. The boy that vanquished him - because it was only a small boy - was named Harry James Potter. He survived Avada Kedavra - the killing curse - but was left with a lightning scar.”

At the mention of a lightning scar, Beau’s hands automatically went to his face, and understanding settled in his eyes.

“What does Dumbledore have to do with this?”

“He’s the leader of the Order of the Phoenix. If Dumbledore had taken you - the supposed defeater of the Dark Lord - you would have been used as a weapon. Pyrites took you from the ruins of your home for selfish reasons, but I’m glad that he did - otherwise I would never had you.”

“Can you tell me about my parents?” Beau asked, and the curious innocence of the question broke Sanguini’s heart. Unable to say no, he shook his head and handed Beau the letter.

{ _James Fleamont Potter was a Pureblood wizard, Lily Evans Potter was a Muggleborn witch. Both were firmly in Dumbledore’s pocket - I should know. I tried recruiting them thrice, and they refused me._ The Voice informed him, as if it was mere descriptions of how to get from point A to point B, and not the first information Beau had ever gotten about his biological parents. _James tried to fight me without a wand. Lily offered her life for yours; I offered to spare her for a follower. Her sacrifice must have played a role in your survival._ }

“It’s okay, papa,” Beau promised, and mustered up a smile. Sanguini carefully smiled back, visibly unsure.

* * *

They went to Diagon Alley on Beau’s birthday. To Sanguini’s chagrin, Pyrites decided to come with them.

“You should enjoy your date, papa,” Beau teased and stepped through the floo to the Leaky Cauldron, which left Sanguini alone with Pyrites. He tried to escape by grabbing the floo powder, but Pyrites gripped his arm and forced him to turn around.

“He’s only trying to be funny,” Sanguini started, but got interrupted as Pyrites pressed their lips together in a soft kiss.

“I admit that I tried to wait for you to ask me out, but you’re extremely dull when you want to,” Pyrites teased before going through the floo. Sanguini felt how his cheeks blossomed red with stolen blood before he hurried to follow his son and Pyrites through the green fire.

The scene that met him in the Leaky Cauldron was one that he had wished to avoid.

* * *

When Beau arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, he had forgotten that the scar over his face would make him immediately recognised. Instead of being able to wait for papa and Pyri to follow him, he found himself shaking hands with strangers until he suddenly got saved by a nervous-looking man in a turban.

 _Talk to him_ , The Voice - because Beau could not call it Voldemort without having his blood run cold and feeling sick - urged.

“Thank you,” Beau got out with a polite smile. The Voice had been nothing but good to him for the last six years, but his new knowledge made him doubt it nonetheless. Especially when it wanted him to talk him to a stranger.

“Harry Potter,” the man said, and Beau immediately frowned at the name. He enjoyed being Beau instead of Harry. “It’s a pleasure.”

“What’s your name, sir?” Beau asked. He could be both polite and uncomfortable at once.

“Quirinus Quirrell,” _Lord Voldemort_. The two answers came at once, but The Voice didn’t speak from inside Beau’s head, but from inside the purple turban. Beau was just about to question it when he felt his papa come up behind him.

“We have a lot to buy, Beau, and a lot to see.” Sanguini said, his dark eyes glaring at Quirrell.

“I’ll see you in school,” Quirrell answered, and disappeared among the other pub guests just as Pyrites joined them.

“I thought we had a date, Amadeo,” Pyrites said, his voice smug. Beau couldn’t help but laugh.

He quickly forgot about the mysterious Quirinus Quirrell has he enjoyed his eleventh birthday with his papa and Pyri, and The Voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pyrites and Sanguini's first date is shopping for Beau, because obviously they're romantic bastards who know what they're doing /sarcasm
> 
> Look at all the plot that's happening!


	5. Reminder

The only one actually prepared when September 1st arrived was Pyrites, since he didn’t officially live with them and therefore interacted with other people and society. Sanguini and Beau were both more than happy to live in a bubble where time didn’t exist most of the time. It brought with it certain chaos when September 1st arrived and Beau had yet to pack, but after lots of summoning spells and running around, their odd group finally made it to Kings Cross at 10:30. As the only one to have gone to Hogwarts, Pyrites had to lead the way while Sanguini and Beau both were busy looking around with curiosity.

{ _Muggles_ , The Voice scoffed. _You should have apparated directly onto the platform_.

Beau ignored it; he was excited to see something new at all, muggle or not.}

“What platform are we going to?” Sanguini asked, for what Beau suspected was the fifth time. His papa had been annoying Pyri a lot more since their date. Beau was just glad that his papa wouldn’t be lonely when he was gone at school.

“Nine and three-quarters,” Pyrites didn’t sigh, but there was a wrinkle forming in between his eyebrows.

“How is there a platform between nine and ten?” Beau asked before his papa could annoy Pyri more.

“The entrance is hidden in that wall between platform nine and ten. Just run straight through it,” Pyrites explained, and made a gesture towards the wall in question. There was a family of redheads going through the wall as they watched.

“Beau, you go first,” Sanguini suggested. Beau smiled; it was funny to him how his papa still mistrusted magic at times. It was less funny that his papa would let him run straight into a solid wall.

“I’ll go with you,” Pyrites offered, and let go of Sanguini’s hand to hold onto Beau’s cart. They walked closer to the wall and then paused to make sure that no Muggle was looking before they ran through.

Beau gasped as they came out on the other side; there were so much people, and the train was just magnificent.

{ _I’ve missed this_ , The Voice admitted. _Make sure to sit in the back - there’s where the Slytherins gathered in my time._ }

“Pyri,” Beau couldn’t help but ask, as The Voice had reminded him of Hogwarts’ house system. “You went to Hogwarts, didn’t you? What house were you in?”

“I did,” Pyrites answered with pride in his voice. “I was in Ravenclaw.”

“What house do you think I’ll be in?”

Pyrites paused for a moment to consider Beau, who bit his lip anxiously.

“You’re a good kid, Beau, even with Sanguini as your role model. You have nothing to worry about, no matter which house you end up in,” Pyrites told him, voice serious yet kind. Beau smiled, thankful to have his fears acknowledged. “I’d be proud no matter which house you’ll end up with, and so will Amadeo, trust me.”

The use of his papa’s mortal name made Beau smile even brighter. He had only gotten the story in bits and pieces over the years, and mainly from eavesdropping, but enough for it to be special for him to hear his papa referred to Amadeo instead of Sanguini, and enough for him to understand that Amadeo is what Sanguini wanted to be but didn’t dare to.

“What are you two talking about?”

His papa had finally made it through the wall, and looked at them with a fond look in his eyes.

{ _Your happiness is sickening_ , The Voice interrupted the moment. Beau ignored him.}

“About how your son will be brilliant, write home every week, and visit for Christmas,” Pyrites said, his tone teasing. Beau got the impression that his papa had worried about him a lot, and it made him feel warm.

“I’ll send Mozart over later, so that you can make good on that promise,” Sanguini said. They had chosen to not bring an owl to a train station full with Muggles. Beau wondered if his papa was aware that he had named the owl Mozart as in Wolfgang _Amadeus_ Mozart.

“Can you send some things from home too?” Beau asked. “I only got my clothes and school supplies; nothing to remember you by.”

“I’ll be hurt if you forget me after one term,” Sanguini answered. “Now get on the train.”

Beau almost giggled as his papa looked at the train for the first time; it was the same expression that he must’ve had.

“I promise to take care of your papa for you,” Pyrites said. “Do you have any money for the trolley?”

“I think I have some sickles?” Beau went to check his pockets, but he stopped when he saw Pyrites take out his money pouch.

“Here’s ten galleons. Try to not use them all on sweets.”

“Thank you, Pyri,” Beau took the money and put them in his pocket before hugging Pyrites. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Pyrites admitted. Beau hugged him tighter for a moment before letting go and hugging his papa instead.

“Remember that you’ll always be my Beau,” his papa said and hugged him back tightly for a moment before letting go.

It hit Beau like a pile of bricks that he would have to let go of his identity for the role of Harry Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pyrites and Sanguini are so married, and Beau is the sweetest kid.


	6. New to the Family

Sanguini stood on the platform long after the train had left. Pyrites patiently waited next to him, until the platform was empty besides from them.

“It’s only for a few months. Beau’ll be back for Christmas, and you always say how time passes differently for you.”

“I’ve never missed anyone before,” Sanguini admitted. “Not like this.”

Pyrites decided to stay quiet about homeschooling. While he didn’t know what to do when Sanguini was like this since it had never happened before, he knew that it would be good for Beau to meet other children and socialise with people besides them.

He would need to distract Sanguini unless he wished to stay at the platform until Christmas.

“Amadeo,” he started, since that was the best way to get Sanguini’s attention. “Do you want to meet my parents?”

“When? Now?”

“Neither of us have any other plans.”

Sanguini turned completely towards him and took his hand, “Okay.”

Pyrites apparated them to a mansion in Wales.

* * *

 

Beau sat alone in a compartment, nose buried in one of his schoolbooks. Unlike what The Voice wanted, his compartment was in the middle of the train, since all the compartments towards the back already were taken and he was unsure how to behave around other people. He had never thought that his childhood would affect his social abilities, but he had not considered that other families looked different, or that he had another identity that people knew of. He wished that he could hide his scar, but the lightning went over his whole face. The white lines were in stark contrast against his dark skin.

 _Your thinking is annoying me_ , The Voice spoke up. _You’ll be fine. I’ll guide you if needed. Now continue reading your history books._

 _I’m reading about potions_ , Beau pointed out, but picked up one of his history books instead. He knew that The Voice liked it when he read about Voldemort. It was the only reason he had bought more history books than the needed History of Magic.

 _Potions doesn’t change, history does_ , was the only comment The Voice made. Beau smiled to himself; The Voice could be cute sometimes. It was an odd feeling.

* * *

 

“I know nothing about your family,” Sanguini pointed out as they waited for the door to open.

“There’s nothing to know about them.”

“Then why are we meeting them?”

“I’ve grown tired of their tries to find me a wife,” Pyrites explained it away. “I’m happy with you.”

Sanguini didn’t know what to say to that, but he hugged Pyrites’ hand.

“I’m happy with you as well, Philemon.”

* * *

 

 _Time is a strange thing_ , Beau mused as he waited for his name to be called. The train ride had supposedly taken hours, but it felt like it had taken both days and five minutes at once. He rather liked train rides, but standing in line waiting for his name to be called while strangers stared at him made time stretch out into an eternity.

“Potter, Harry!” was called at last. Beau cringed at it, but still stepped forward. The only positive thing was that he had been saved from being the second sorted with _Acerbi, Beau_.

 _What an interesting mind_ , a new voice spoke in his head after his vision had been obscured by the sorting hat. _It’s rather crowded_.

 _May I suggest Slytherin?_ The Voice intervened, to Beau’s surprise. It was a house that he hadn’t considered for himself. The new voice must have agreed, because it laughed. He could only assume that the voice belonged to the hat.

 _Whatever you think fits me best_ , Beau gave his opinion.

 _Then I think it’ll be_ , the hat gave the sense of a smile. “Hufflepuff!”

Beau removed the hat to the sound of scattered applauds. He glanced towards the teacher table, only to meet the eyes of a man he recognised.

 _Quirinus Quirrell_ , The Voice reminded him. Beau did his best to not grimace before he went to sit at the Hufflepuff table, next to Abbot, Hannah. It would be an interesting year.

* * *

“Your mother was nice,” Sanguini said. They had spent hours with Pyrites’ parents, and had just gotten back to his home. “She gave me some Welsh recipes.”

“They liked you,” Pyrites promised. He had not considered what they would think about him being with another man, and less so a known vampire, but his neutral parents were more accepting than he expected. It helped that Sanguini behaved as a dream; he had to admit that he felt something akin to love afterwards.

“Do you think Beau has gotten to Hogwarts yet?”

“He should’ve been sorted by now. You should send him Mozart so that we can get to know which house he’s in.”

“Thank you,” Sanguini suddenly said. “For today. It was better than wine.”

He could just as well as said _I love you_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't really feeling my writing today. It's still adorable.


	7. Laughter

Beau felt jittery as he lied in bed, hidden behind a yellow canopy. He had never slept anywhere beside his own house before, and then he usually slept in his own bed. The thought made him regret that he hadn’t spent his last night at home sleeping next to his papa; they had done it a lot when he was younger and had nightmares, but as Beau got older and Pyri slept over more, it stopped happening.

He couldn’t name the ache in his heart or the uneasiness in his stomach as he stared up at the foreign ceiling, listening to new sounds, and getting used to new smells. Somehow this was more overwhelming than being surrounded by excitable children that couldn’t believe that they were meeting Harry Potter. Not that Beau could believe them either; he had not been Harry Potter for ten years. He had no intentions to start now, but he didn’t  know how he could possibly disappoint a whole school full of people by refusing the name he was famous as.

If he had been unable to sleep earlier, he was definitely unable to sleep now. The emotions felt too big for his body, and the sudden anxiety overwhelmed him.

 _If it helps_ , The Voice spoke up. _I prefer Beau over Harry._

Beau smiled; it did help a little. Then again, if The Voice really was Voldemort - something he had yet to fully come to terms with - then it was understandable that Beau was preferable. Beau liked him, Harry was supposed to have defeated him and was surely expected to defeat him again.

He wondered if Dumbledore would confront him with those expectations. His smile disappeared as he thought about what his papa had said about his new headmaster.

 _You could explore the castle_ , The Voice suddenly suggested. _That would get your mind off things. I still remember the secret passages._

 _You’re being nice_ , Beau commented, but got out of his bed anyway. He could try to find the kitchens if nothing else; he had heard one of the older students mention that they were close.

_Otherwise I would have to listen to your homesickness and anxiety the whole night. I have better things to do._

Beau couldn’t help but giggle; he couldn’t imagine what else The Voice could have to do than be in his head and listen to his thoughts.

 _If you’re going to laugh at me, I won’t tell you how to get into the kitchen_ , The Voice said, more offended than Beau had expected him to be.

 _Okay, I promise to not laugh at you_ , Beau answered. He didn’t stop smiling or imagine what The Voice could possibly get up to though.

* * *

Sanguini looked down into the half-empty glass of wine in his hand without actually seeing anything. It had been nice of Pyrites to distract him earlier, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about how empty the house felt without Beau. The silence felt heavy and suffocating, much like it used to do before Beau became a part of his life. He hadn’t been aware that he depended so much on his son; it was not a feeling that he liked. He had been too dependant in the past… not that that situation could ever be compared to missing Beau.

“Your wine won’t drink itself,” Pyrites pointed out. Sanguini had almost forgotten that he still was there.

“I don’t want it,” Sanguini sighed and put down the glass on the table. He moved to stand up.

“What about blood?” Pyrites offered. Sanguini gave him a considering looking, and then shaked his head.

“Maybe I should sleep,” he said after a moment of silence.

“Do you think you’ll be able to?” Pyrites asked, worry in his tone. “It’s not that long since you last slept…”

“That I mostly ignore the need until I collapse don’t mean that I’m unable to,” Sanguini explained. “I prefer avoiding the suffocating void of dreamlessness, but that’s another thing.”

“You don’t have to stay here. You could come with me to my home.”

Sanguini focused back on Pyrites, obvious surprise in his eyes.

“To be honest, I had forgotten that you have a home of your own.”

“I feel special,” Pyrites drawled. “I can leave you alone if you prefer.”

“No,” Sanguini forced a smile. “I want to see where you live.”

Pyrites offered his hand, and Sanguini accepted it. One moment they were in his dark kitchen, the next they were outside a small manor in Scotland.

“My father’s side of the family is Scottish, as you know,” Pyrites explained. “He gave me the manor when I graduated.”

“That explains the statues,” was the only thing Sanguini managed to get out. There were two ridiculous statues, one on each side of the door. To the right was a gigantic statue of a _bauchan_ , and to the left was a statue of an _[each-uisge](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fupload.wikimedia.org%2Fwikipedia%2Fcommons%2Fe%2Fe5%2FEachuisge.jpg&t=NjZiNmE3YjQxYmEzNzY5MmZlYzlhZTZkNWMxZjUwYzlkZTJkNzQzZSwzQXVNajllQQ%3D%3D&b=t%3A5_AZLOv-u1Q4Cu0TWlatCg&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsangrites.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F158247137971%2F7-laughter&m=0)_ that seemed to be in mid transformation; it looked like a humanoid horse with a parrot-like beak shaped muzzle. It was hard to not laugh at the grotesque styles the statues were in; they were rather offensive.

“I keep forgetting to do something about them,” Pyrites admitted. “I have no idea which distant relative thought they would be a good idea.”

“Is the inside any better?” Sanguini asked, a real smile on his lips.

“You’ll see,” Pyrites opened the door for them. “But we could go directly to the bedroom…”

“Thank you for getting me out of the house,” Sanguini said as he entered the house. “Again.”

“Your company is my pleasure,” Pyrites made sure to close the door behind them before taking his hand and kissing it. Sanguini couldn’t help but laugh. He felt a lot better now.

“You mentioned a bedroom?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is so cute, gosh. But tbh, Pyrites feel a bit OOC to me. I think it's because I haven't written him being in a healthy relationship with Sanguini before, outside my 100 drabbles series. Could also be because I'm still figuring him out, unlike Sanguini who I feel like I know well.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated.


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